


rest in pieces

by kiyala



Category: Show By Rock!! - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Consensual Violence, Dismemberment, Erotic Electrostimulation, Ex Sex, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Painplay, Robogore, Robot Shuuzo, consensual dismemberment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuuzo is overdue for maintenance. He goes to Rom instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rest in pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to my favourite robotfucker in the world. Ginny. <3

It's ten o'clock on a work night and Shuuzo is at Rom's door. 

It _has_ to be Shuuzo, because Rom doesn't know anyone else who would be obnoxious enough to lean against someone's doorbell at this time of night. The high, tinny ringing fills the air, making Rom's leopard ears pin back, but he still hesitates in front of the door, not sure that he actually wants to open it. He doesn't even know how Shuuzo has his address.

Then, the constant buzzing is accompanied by a dull thud—Shuuzo is actually _kicking the door_. Rom growls, undoing the deadlock and pulling the door open.

"What the fuck are you even doing—" Rom falls silent as he sees Shuuzo, still leaning against the doorbell, holding it down with the heel of his hand. 

Shuuzo's fingers are curled into loose fists, but Rom can tell that they don't seem quite right. A closer look confirms his suspicions; the synthetic skin casing on Shuuzo's fingers is unravelling. Rom can see the metal and wiring underneath.

Looking up at Rom with a pale imitation of his usual dazzling smile, Shuuzo simply greets him with, "Help me."

With a loud sigh, Rom grabs a fistful of Shuuzo's shirt and drags him inside, slamming the door shut behind them. 

"Don't you have people to help you with this?" Rom asks, already feeling entirely done with this situation.

Shuuzo wobbles on his feet. Rom reaches out and perhaps, at another point in their lives, he would have pulled Shuuzo close to steady him. Now, he just manhandles Shuuzo in the direction of the couch. This shouldn't be his problem any more.

"When did you last go in for maintenance?"

Shuuzo laughs tightly. "Ah. I can't remember."

"Don't give me that shit," Rom mutters, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, in front of Shuuzo. "You're a robot. You know."

"Let me think…" Shuuzo rests his head back against the couch, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. "I'm sure it was just after _Kimi To…_ hit number one on the charts. No, wait, I think it was after we were signed on to advertise Dream Galaxy Soda."

Without even stopping to think about it, Rom punches Shuuzo in the face. His knuckles meet Shuuzo's jaw with enough force to knock it slightly out of place, sending his head snapping backwards.

"How rude," Shuuzo murmurs, his voice crackling a little. "Oh, now look what you've done. My wiring's a little off. I can't believe you're still so jealous of me."

"Why are you bothering me with this?" Rom asks, unsure if he wants to set Shuuzo's jaw back in place for him or tear it off entirely. "You have your own bandmates to go to." 

Shuuzo smiles, sitting up so that he's a little closer to Rom. "The twins don't know about this."

Rom sucks in a sharp breath, thrown back to a few years ago, when he was younger and the tension between them was fun instead of exhausting. He remembers Shuuzo being pressed up against him, feeling warm and real even with his complete lack of a heartbeat, whispering, _nobody else knows about this_ , against Rom's mouth. 

The worst part is that Rom still doesn't know if he's lying then. He could be lying now.

Even so, he goes with it.

"Can't let them see you falling apart, right?" Rom touches their fingertips together. He takes Shuuzo's loose skin between his fingers, peeling it away to expose more wiring. "Can't let _these_ bandmates know that your critics don't even realise how right they are when they call you fake and manufactured."

"Jealousy looks awful on you," Shuuzo smiles, baring his teeth. "Almost as awful as that leopard print vest you insist on wearing. No wonder you're all so unpopular, when no one can bear looking at you."

"It's not about being popular," Rom grits out, an he knows that this argument isn't going to go anywhere, because they've had it so many times before. "I like my band because they're fun to work with. That's all that matters."

"Keep telling yourself that, until they get bored and leave you too."

"Shut up," Rom growls, digging his claws into the sides of Shuuzo's arms, feeling the synthetic skin tear away beneath them. Shuuzo hisses softly; his pain receptors are clearly still working. Rom digs his claws in a little deeper, dragging them down Shuuzo's arms. 

"Is that the worst you can do?" Shuuzo asks, raising an eyebrow. Rom is completely aware that he's falling for Shuuzo's bait, but he doesn't mind that so much. 

"You know it isn't," he replies. The good thing, he supposes, about being so intimately acquainted with Shuuzo inside and out, is that he knows exactly where Shuuzo's joints are articulated, to take them apart in the easiest manner. 

He also knows how to avoid those parts, tightening his grip and yanking instead. He tears one of Shuuzo's arms off, watching the broken wires spark as he tosses it to the floor. He tears Shuuzo's other arm off as well, before grabbing the front of his shirt, tugging him into a hard kiss. 

"Rom," Shuuzo laughs, his voice glitching a little. "You're giving me incredibly mixed messages here. I can't tell if you want to take me apart in the fun way, or the other fun way."

"Both," Rom replies, dragging his teeth along Shuuzo's jaw. "It's always been both."

Shuuzo shudders a little, pressing himself a little closer. "You could tear my face off, just like that." 

"I could," Rom murmurs, kissing Shuuzo's neck. "I could tear your pretty face right off. You know what I want to do even more than that, though?" 

"Show me," Shuuzo whispers, his voice a rush of static. 

Taking a deep breath, Rom bares his teeth and rips into Shuuzo's throat. He feels the skin giving way, pulling away from Shuuzo's metal frame. Shuuzo doesn't scream in pain but he moans loudly, his voice jumping in pitch, the metal ends of his fingers digging into Rom's thighs. 

Rom spits the synthetic skin out, turning to Shuuzo again, and digs his thumb against the wiring of Shuuzo's throat, pushing it aside until he finds the little voice box.

"I could break this, Shuu," he says softly, pressing his thumb against it hard, feeling a few of the wires give way. "Where would that leave you? What's the point of you, if you can't sing the way you were made to? You'd be pointless. That's what you called our band, wasn't it? _Pointless_?"

Shuuzo laughs, or at least that's what Rom thinks he tries to do. The sound comes out as a screech, like audio feedback. He digs his fingers into Rom's thighs a little harder, the pointed ends of his fingers sharp enough that it hurts. Rom tries not to let himself press into it. He unbuttons Shuuzo's shirt, pressing a clawed thumb against the weakest point of his chest, tearing it open. 

It's said that all myumon have a melodisian at their very core, but it's probably not as literal as Shuuzo's is. It's filled with rainbow light that pulses gently, the way that a heart would. It's garish and obnoxious, just like the rest of Shuuzo. Rom ignores it, continuing to tear Shuuzo's skin apart with his claws, until he's nothing but his metal innards, with only his face, his hair and his tail intact. 

"Are you done letting out your frustration?" Shuuzo asks, his voice sounding tinny, with barely enough inflection to make it sound like a question. 

"Yeah," Rom sighs. He gets up, grabbing Shuuzo by the sides to lift him up, and walks over to the dining table. "Come on."

He's glad he cleaned the apartment earlier, because he doesn't have to move anything aside before he sets Shuuzo down on his back, on top of the table. "I'll be back. I swear, if you don't stay put, I'll tear your legs off too."

"You'd enjoy that," Shuuzo calls out, as Rom walks away. "I would, too."

Rom ignores that, shaking his head as he digs through his closet for the bag that he knows he kept somewhere towards the back, where he wouldn't have to look at it. He pulls it out, carrying it back towards the table, and Shuuzo lets out another discordant screech of laughter. 

"You still have that."

"You're lucky I do," Rom replies, opening the bag up and pulling out the roll of synthetic skin that Shuuzo left with him so long ago that it feels like another life entirely. He holds it up and clicks his tongue. "Shame, I think this suited your black hair better."

"Are you going to reattach my arms?" Shuuzo asks. They're still lying on the floor where Rom dropped them. "You'd better rewire them properly."

"Shuu," Rom laughs quietly, pulling out the tools that Shuuzo gifted him with years ago, that he's used so many times that just holding them again is reawakening his muscle memory. "Who the fuck do you think put you back together all those times before?" 

"You might have forgotten."

With a sigh, Rom picks up Shuuzo's arms, putting them on the table beside him. He presses his fingers to the centre of Shuuzo's unresponsive hand. "I don't forget these things, Shuu. Even when I want to." 

With another static-filled sigh, Shuuzo nods. "I know what that's like."

"I remember that this hurts if you don't power down," Rom says, raising an eyebrow at Shuuzo.

"Yeah." Shuuzo blinks up at him. "Keep going." 

It's a slow process, because Rom is being careful to get it right. It's made more difficult with the fact that Shuuzo won't stop writhing beneath his hands, every tiny spark leaving him gasping and moaning, until Rom focuses on rewiring his voice box properly so it sounds right. 

"You used to get off on this," Shuuzo murmurs, nudging his knee between Rom's legs. "You still do."

"I can turn your voice box off entirely," Rom warns. 

"You won't," Shuuzo says, smug and certain. "Is it nice to have your hands all over me again, Rom?"

"You tell me," Rom replies, and this time, he makes Shuuzo's wires spark on purpose. "You used to get off on this too. I guess you still do."

Shuuzo registers pleasure, even if there's no way for him to release it. Rom has learned to take advantage of that, overwhelming Shuuzo until he can't do anything but beg for more. He can tell that Shuuzo is hyperaware of the fact that he could do it right now; it's there in his expression, like he isn't sure if he should ask, or if he should wait.

Rom leaves him hanging, until Shuuzo's arms are back in place properly. One of the tools in Rom's bag is for stabilising the current flowing through Shuuzo's wiring, making sure he doesn't overheat while his skin is being put back on. Rom knows exactly where to attach it, to have Shuuzo whimpering at the back of his throat. He might be a little more difficult to work with, twitching and jerking with pleasure, but Rom doesn't mind. He's used to Shuuzo being difficult anyway.

It's late by the time Shuuzo's skin is entirely reattached. Rom is so hard that he's aching with it, from listening to Shuuzo moaning, from watching and feeling him writhe on the table. When Shuuzo spreads his legs invitingly, Rom doesn't even think twice. He yanks his pants down, holding Shuuzo's legs up with his thighs together, slicked with spit, and slides his cock between them. 

"You're warm," Shuuzo gasps out, fingers brushing against the head of Rom's cock as it peeks out on the other side with each thrust. "You're burning up."

Rom certainly feels like he is. He thrusts harder, digging his fingers into Shuuzo's thighs, careful not to break the skin. "Your body just hasn't warmed up yet."

"You're still burning up," Shuuzo squeezes his thighs together as tightly as he can, pulling a rough, low moan from Rom. "You're making a mess all over me already."

"Shuu," Rom gasps out, his hips stuttering. 

"Go on," Shuuzo urges, and he sounds fond and amused. Rom comes hard, hating just how good it feels, and how much he's missed this. "Mm, that was quick. Has it been a while?"

"Shut up," Rom mutters, pulling his pants back up. "I'll get you a towel. Wipe yourself off and get dressed. You can show yourself out. I have work tomorrow. I need to get to sleep." 

With a heavy sigh, Shuuzo sits up. "You're no fun. I told you that job was going to cramp your style."

"Leave, Shuu," Rom says, firmly this time. He turns away, heading towards his bedroom. "Lock the door behind you."

He doesn't even bother turning the light on in his room, walking straight to his bed and collapsing into it, physically exhausted and emotionally drained. 

He supposes that he shouldn't even be surprised when he feels the mattress dip a while later, under somebody else's weight. He pretends not to notice the way Shuuzo curls up beside him, his body back at its regular temperature. He exhales slowly and relaxes against the mattress, and pretends not to notice the way that it leaves him pressed up against Shuuzo's side.

In the morning, Shuuzo is gone and Rom feels relaxed from the best night of sleep he's gotten for a while. He pretends not to notice that either.


End file.
